Today I got a little lost
Until You found me
In the hymns I played
At the end of the day
I’m weary and it’s late
Last night I had a hard time
Getting to sleep which
Made this entire day feel
Off-balance –
already behind and unable
to catch up with myself
This night – sing me to sleep
And wake me with joy
Alive and ready for another
Day – found and grateful
From my journal yesterday evening.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 29 January 2019
Photo found at unsplash.com
Tears flow easily these days,
fed by inescapable beauty
plus the soul-pain of being
alive and open to life.
Or perhaps it’s chill winter
resurrecting shared memories,
turning spare light into a
celebration of what we
have together, parsed out in
days and nights of longing for
spring’s welcome thaw.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 27 January 2019
Photo found at thefuntimesguide.com
Gifts of old age
Come slowly sifting
Decades of memories
Through a heart
Converted to truth
Soft and pliable
It weighs the years
Discarding self-contempt
For self-acceptance
And understanding
Of what and why
And wherefore these
Shadows are nothing
In the end but
The reverse side of
Life interrupted and
Redeemed at great cost
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 27 January 2019
Photo found at artistsnetwork.com
Floating on water
Warm and welcoming
I drift through treetops
The color of brown
Graceful they sway
Lifting bare branches
Toward the sky
Elegant in winter
Garb accented with
Clouds of snowy ermine
Bits and pieces of this morning’s waking dream….all but the snowy ermine (stoat), too elegant to omit.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 23 January 2019
Photo found at mymodernmet.com
Brilliant winter sun-rays
Filter through frigid air
Endangering darkroom eyes
Unaccustomed to light
Blinking he looks away
Unwilling to sacrifice
Hazy unclear sight for clarity
Or the fine details of truth
Better the sweet comfort
Of blurred lines mixing
Facts with fiction or
Reducing them to nothing
Stumbling blindly
From pillar to post
He makes his lonely way
Lost in an internal maze
I didn’t set out to write about Mr. Trump, yet it seems I have. So now I’m sitting here wondering what’s going on in me. Have I given up on his presidency? Disengaged myself from caring anymore?
That might happen if I believed that whatever he does, I will likely weather the storm. Yet I don’t believe that. His actions put us and others at risk every day.
More likely, I wrote this because I lack visible power over what’s happening in Washington. I voted. Now it seems there’s no more I can do to make a visible difference.
Nor can I say I hope for something better from Mr. Trump. I don’t. I’m an aging citizen, with limited time and energy. I want to know how to make my voice and my concerns heard.
Though I could perhaps feel sorry for Mr. Trump, that isn’t an option. He has openly chosen his way of doing business, and is following it regardless of intended or unintended outcomes for our nation or our allies.
What now? If I remember right, Jesus rebuked those who paraded their supposed righteousness before everyone’s eyes. Instead, he recognized with gratitude and admiration the widow who, almost unnoticed, gave from her heart the bit she had.
I want to find my bit, and offer it from my heart. Not to Mr. Trump, but to this world God already loves — the same world I’m learning to love in spite of our differences and blurred visions of reality.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 January 2019
Photo found at freepik.com
weary spirits
laid to rest lie soft
on winter’s snow
breathless we linger
beneath the heavens
Written in light of
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 January 2019
Photo of Sycamores in Central Park found at 123RF.com
Sun streams
Through windows
Of my heart
Warm and open
Welcoming and
Tentative
What will today bring
Of joy and beauty
And will my heart
Welcome it
With open arms
Chilled to the bone
My desk is cluttered
With possibilities
Waiting patiently
To take root and grow
Peripheral flowers
Of the field
Bits and pieces of heart
Given away
Despite the anguish
Of saying goodbye
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 15 January 2019
Photo found at fromthegrapevine.com, taken at Spring 2014 Flower Show in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Time
and again
This is my body
broken
My mother’s body
haunts me
A living reminder
I stare through windows
wondering
how we traveled
so lonely
for so long
Misplaced
inadvertent flowers
bloom
without rhyme or reason
out of season
now out of time
Looking
into a mirror
I catch her
watching me
wondering
Lost birds
flutter on the ground
unable to spread
their wings and soar
together
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 12 January 2019
Painting by Natalya Zaytseva; found at ssatchairt.com
Blush-pink morning clouds
Paint the sky peachy sherbet
Fresh from last night’s raucous rain
Now gathered in mud puddles
Outside my bedroom window
Venus shines in the east
Birds soar through chilled air
Graceful trees sway to and fro
Freed by the sound of nothing
This morning’s quiet was welcome, especially given the bluster and chest-thumping offered up daily by our news feeds. Huge plates overflow with hand-wringing, fact-checking, posturing and dissecting served up fresh, minute by minute. Starvation diet. That’s what it feels like. Even the best scenarios aren’t enough to sustain us.
Nature isn’t God. Nor is Nature a meek little lamb. Nonetheless, when seen through eyes of faith, Nature becomes a vast, open, accessible tutor about life.
My daily challenge is to stop, look and listen. Though the music isn’t always beautiful, it always points to truth. A welcome respite from today’s clamorous voices, and a reminder that we are all finite. This current state of affairs will not last forever.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 January 2019
Photo of Venus at dawn found at flickr.com, taken by Joseph Brimacombe
Telling the Truth 